


(I’m a loaded gun) I can't contain this anymore

by shadowtraveled (meteorfest)



Series: punk's not dead, it just went pop [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Boyband AU, M/M, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4203246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meteorfest/pseuds/shadowtraveled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Travis and Austin are members of two different bands and their differences often lead to arguments. This latest argument just happens to turn out a lot differently than the others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(I’m a loaded gun) I can't contain this anymore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Allarica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allarica/gifts).



> Allarica and I spend way too much time coming up with AUs and usually I end up writing fics for her. This is one of those fics. Title shamelessly taken from 1D's "No Control" and I'm not sorry.

Funny how Austin ended up pinned beneath the other boy, their lips mashed together and Travis' hands at his hips as they kissed roughly in the back of the van. For all the glares and rude gestures backstage between gigs, this was the exact opposite of what he'd expected to happen when the two of them had ended up taking the last van to the rendezvous to the hotel. They'd been designated to pack up the last of the equipment and meet up at the hotel and, as they packed up, they'd argued over everything - how Travis was putting things into the van, how meticulous (actually, the words Travis had used had been "stupidly anal retentive") Austin was being, how they were going to be late to the rendezvous, why they'd gotten stuck with each other; it went on and on.

After Travis pushed in the last case, things had escalated to a point where they'd reverted to grade school children making fun of each other's appearance. _Hipster trash_ , Travis had called Austin. _Dumb punk_ , Austin had shot back. The antagonism between them built up and built up until Travis had stepped closer, caught Austin's face between his hands, and kissed him roughly to cut off any further commentary from the British teen.

At first, Austin had been unsure of what to do next. Should he shove Travis away? Punch him? Anger was still bubbling inside him, but the kiss was a rather thorough distraction from the argument that had long since derailed from its original topic. What he ended up doing was kissing back, heart racing in his chest.

Travis had shoved him into the back of the van among the packed up equipment and broke the kiss just long enough to make sure the doors were closed behind them as he crawled in over Austin. The brief break for air was welcome, but then Austin was pulling Travis down for a second kiss, just as hot and rough as the first. Anger and annoyance colored the kisses and spurned their actions on, which brought them to the moment where Travis' hands were at Austin's hips, grip tight as he pulled the other teen to him, their hips grinding together with moans from both teens.

"I hate you," Austin told Travis between kisses.

The older teen, the bassist for the punk band, Psychopomp, that was fronting for the band Austin was in (Delos Brothers; yes, they were a pop boyband, shut up) had been getting on his nerves for weeks, ever since Will and Lee had booked Psychopomp as their opening act. It'd had been little things at first - Travis was loud and invasive, intruding in Austin's personal bubble more than once; he was irresponsible, partying with the other band members, drinking and pranking the night away, only for media to blow up the story the next day; he was constantly playing video games during rehearsals, his blue 3DS set aside only when he was actively playing. The constant arguing between Austin and Travis had only furthered his dislike for the other teen.

"Mmhmm," came Travis' reply as his hands slide under the shirt Austin wore. The other boy's fingers were warm against Austin's skin and the moan he let out against Travis' lips only seemed to encourage the other musician, as Travis let his hands slip higher under his shirt. "Hate you, too."

They both said 'hate' but neither of them denied the tension between them. Austin had felt that tension rising throughout the argument, could feel it just about to snap before Travis had caught him in that first kiss. It was still there, pushing both of them eagerly along as the kisses got more desperate and their bodies began to react to each other. A hot jolt pulsed through Austin as Travis' hips rolled against his own and his body moved on its own, rocking back against Travis in response. His hands slid under the leather jacket Travis wore and pushed it off the other teen's shoulders, while Travis' hands moved low, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper.

Gods knew how far the two of them would have gotten. Travis had moved his lips from Austin's, trailing down to kiss his neck, picking a spot to bite at before sucking hard to leave a mark on the British singer's skin. Austin was tugging Travis' shirt off now, tossing it aside as he'd done with the bassist's jacket. The heat coiling in the pit of Austin's stomach urged him on and he didn't doubt a similiar sensation was pushing Travis to continue.

And they might have gone pretty far, if Austin's phone hadn't started ringing. He knew by the ringtone that it was Will and he didn't doubt that his brother was calling to find out where he was, why he and Travis hadn't made it to the hotel yet. He started to push Travis away so he could get the phone.

"Don't answer it," Travis told him. He circled his tongue over the hickey he'd left on Austin's neck, causing the other teen to whimper softly. "It can wait."

"I-It's Will," Austin countered. He pulled his phone out of his pocket with a little difficulty, since Travis was continuing his administrations, despite the call.

"He can leave a voicemail."

"He'll tell Lee and then _Lee_ will call."

"We'll meet them later," Travis insisted, slipping one hand into Austin's pants.

Austin had to bite his lip to keep from moaning and he nearly dropped his phone as pleasure ran through him from Travis' hand over him. He took in a shaky breath, exhaled, then pulled away from the other musician, shoving Travis away as he adjusted his phone in his hand and hit answer. "H-hello?"

"Austin, where are you?" Will's voice came through. "The rest of the vans are all here. Did you and Travis get lost?"

"No, we're on our way," Austin replied. He glanced at Travis, who gave him a glare - not unlike the ones they'd exchanged frequenly before - and grabbed his shirt to pull it back on. Austin rolled his eyes and returned to the call. "It...took us a little longer than we thought to pack everything in the van."

"Alright," Will told him. "We're set up in the penthouse suite, just let the receptionist know you're with us. We told him to expect you guys."

"Got it." Austin looked up as he heard the back door of the van open and caught sight of Travis hopping out and disappearing around the side. "We'll be there in a little while."

He hung up with Will and fixed his clothes before getting out of the back of the van. He closed the doors, making sure everything was in place before walking around the side of the van and to the passenger door, climbing in and hooking his seatbelt as Travis started the engine.

Neither of them spoke to each other throughout the ride to the hotel.


End file.
